Running With Metal 2  M version
by Farmageddon
Summary: Continues where RWM2 left off. Gritty , bleak but compassionate human drama seen mainly through the eyes of an Ex Hells Angel . Bikes, psychotic T818's , Greys,  and an sapient T803 childminder. JC/CC/SC/DR of course. eclectic , different provocative.


_Ok this is a bit adult hence rated M. - If your read RWM1 then you will know that everyone is en route to the safe house. I got this idea they would meet up at a roadhouse, Highway 64. It's written as Mitch speaks and thinks . Bob , the 803, and Derek are trying to teach Mitch something about the world he had just arrived in. Derek and 'Bob' served together and they actually know Mitch in the future . They are trying to bond with him and to get him to chill out. In this future does Derek really hate Bob for being Metal or has he come to a grudging acceptance of him? _

* * *

Gas. Bathroom. Food.

2012

Roadhouse. Highway 64.

_"You can run on for a long time ."_

Over Mitch's head an electrical timer opened a valve and water sluiced down the pipe into the urinals. Standing next to Mitch was the bulk of the 803, 'Bob' '. Bob was unselfconsciously evacuating 'fluids' . On the other side of Mitch, Derek Reese was staring into a square of dirty white sanitary tiles. _Maybe he should have been whistling quietly to himself_ Mitch thought.

The closer on the door to the bathroom was broken. When it got shoved too hard it banged wide open into the row of sinks behind them .

Two 'suits' walked in deliberately clicking their heels over the tiled floor - Sales managers, talking loudly and confidently about animal feed in kilograms and dollars , except this wasn't about agro-dollars, and they weren't really listening to each other, just making noise for the sake of it. Mitch knew the type; for these guys it was all about filling and claiming territory around them with the sound of their own voices. They thought they were a cut above and expected guys like him to move along, roll belly up.

Mitch glanced over his shoulder and looked right into them, and when he caught their eye he felt their confidence crumbling under this gaze . The pair shut the hell up and looked down at their feet.

When the three of them moved out, the 'suits' stood aside deliberately avoiding eye contact . Mitch could 'feel' the sigh of relief when he was the last out of the door. Outside he caught their voices getting loud again and he had the urge to go back and slam their soft after-shaved faces into the bathroom tiles , what the hell did they know about was kicking off.

Mitch felt an arm on his shoulder and he was being pulled into an enormous frame- Like a young man gets quietened down by a senior member of a club, little fatherly, little threatening,. " You're wired man. What this about huh?"

Truth? It was shock and reflex and Mitch trying to find the elusive ground under his feet. Today someone had tried to kill him, murder his family and for good measure he discovered life on the planet was about to be exterminated by a race of killing machines, _and,_ Mitch reasoned guys like those suits in the bathroom were part of the problem": You treat people like shit because you can ,you breed resentment , then all comes back on everyone like a destructive wave.

Mitch shook his head like he was thinking nothing. The 803 looked right into him , and Mitch knew with Bob there was no bullshit-getting around him, in reality that was huge leap to rationalize his behavior, and he couldn't justify this kind of anger . He was wired, like he hadn't been for years. plain and simple.

Bob reached into Mitch's jacket and pulled out a pack of Malboro's and his lighter and gestured with his thumb towards the parking lot.

Mitch caught Derek's voice. "You want to fight Mitchell, you'll get your chance, right now Bob's mirroring and bonding to you and don't want to set him off. You getting wound up like that? Makes Bob here real twitchy, and if he gets twitchy then maybe goes and swipes dumb bastard's head off ,then he gets busted down the ranks and I get a piece of Metal I don't want, assigned right back on me. You know by 2027 I'd been trying to offload that damn lump of tin for six years. What is it you do now Bob ? Tell Mitch"

"I do child protection and teaching . I like it."

Reese shook his head - "And, you cut the emulation crap, - you don't actually like or dislike anything Bob, I've had enough of this shit again, already." Reese glared at him for a second and began walking to the door.

Mitch studied Bob's face- If it was emulation then he did a good job of appearing hurt, but there was something else in there, dignity maybe.

"Come on lets go outside , he kinda means it, but he doesn't. You'll understand later Mitch."

* * *

Bob, Mitch and Derek hung around outside the diner waiting for Sharon and the kids to finish up in the disabled bathroom. Catheters and bags take time in the wrong places.

The older girls were by their bikes scanning over the parking lot, scrutinizing every vehicle that pulled in off the road. Beyond the parking lot, the far side of the highway, a coal train clanked and groaned like a half - mile long metal snake hauling itself through the shimmering desert heat. Mitch followed its length and his gaze was drawn, falling back on the older Nat's standing by her bike . It felt like his breath was being taken away from him -god she'd grown up so beautiful it was painful.

Reese caught Mitch letting out a sigh. "This ain't going to help, but I didn't ask for this crap either. Me and my little brother? We were playing baseball one afternoon then the sky caught fire . How it goes Mitch, you know."

Mitch seemed miles away and almost mumbled his reply: "Thinking more about how I explain things to my wife."

"Don't worry they'll break it to her, bit by bit , that's how they work." He tilted his head towards Bob appeared to be experimentally leaning his shoulder into a thick wooden pole supporting the veranda to the diner to test its strength.

Mitch looked over to Bob. "You volunteer for any of this ?"

"Don't bother, he doesn't even think like us." Reese cut in.

The T8 shifted his back against the wooden rail , smiled cold and shook his his head . There were families around so he kept his voice low "Hey I'm sensing a bit of aggression here from you Lt Reese." Then he glanced down at the back of his hands , Mitch noted how big those hands were and tried to imagine the industrial sized segments of bone crushing metal and maybe something like steel ball bearings for knuckles .

Without breaking eye contact with Derek ,Bob directed his words to Mitch "You know man, I didn't ask to be back here either. I've got a nursery and dorms to run, kids to protect, a teaching schedule longer than sector seven airstrip . I don't _like_ tanks, and , hey - Lt. Reese, doesn't look like you been doing so bad back here . I note your body mass increased by 8.7 kg since I last evaluated you , mostly in the abdominal region." Bob patted his belly for effect.

"You just keep that up tin can. I know how to put pounds inside you too." Reese snapped back at him curtly.

Mitch kept quiet . This was like being back in the Angels, screwing around not genuine hostility . Bob and Derek stared at each other around him .

"So," Reese snorted . 'How's my tank, Bob ?"

Bob glanced wryly at Mitch , pulled a near perfect look of innocence and said nothing . He was going to let Derek sweat.

"What is it- you let Connor' requisition my tank .

Bob looked into he space between put out his bottom lip them and slowly shook his head

Reese ran his hands through his hair "What the hell did you let happen to it?"

The T8 cracked open a big grin. "You don't change Reese, on some things you are so.. gullible. Your tank's fine all wrapped up. Connor sent some Mechanized 13 pad-puncher over to sniff around, but we convinced him it's NC-able . Its still detailed as a teaching aid OK. Everything's cool. It's where you left it."

There was pause in the conversataion, a space to draw Mitch in . It was like they were discussing bikes, and Mitch knew tanks as well as bikes . Taking up his cue Mitch asked. " What sort of tank you got there Derek ?"

"M2 A1HC / PC , Abrahams, RMSh tracked, Si-chipped , it's about the fastet thing on Black Sands, apart from that Metalfucker standing next to you."

"Heavy cannon Abrahams huh?" Mitch nodded ." What's the PC?"

"Twin Plasma Metal Burners "

"You sound attached, Derek. " Mitch's voice had become smoother , calmer. This conversation, them standing in front of a diner waiting for the kids to get out of the bathroom, people fueling cars, coming and going around them , threads of normality against the enormity of the apocalyptic backdrop that had recently unfurled down and around Mitch.

Before he spoke , Bob put his tongue to the corner of his mouth. "Derek really likes his tank. Its the only known Metal he has bonded with, which, is totally his loss,not ours . Mitch - Reese owes me big for keeping his Metal concealed, that's what this is about, you should see the way he touches those control panels ."

"It's about the only Goddamn thing that doesn't give me attitude in a gun turret ." Reese replied right back at him. "Now you not going to make me buy you coffee or Bud for the next six months are you ? Sometimes I think you don't even 'like' that shit and you are consuming things I have to pay for, to annoy me."

Bob didn't budge an inch "You owe me Reese . I like consuming that 'shit' , and why would I want to annoy you Lt. Reese? I'm Metal hence unable to derive pleasure or satisfaction out of social interaction . Is that not correct?"

"Correct . But you're still Goddamn twisted metal "

And you are one Bad Lieutenant, LT. Reese - you will recall...this was his biggest wind-up" Bob turned his face nearer to Mitch and spoke like he was imparting a big confidence :" He found this form and volunteered me for Cybershrink assessment . I got locked-down and made to sit through a film called The Bad Lieutenant eight times to determine if I had any moral appreciation underlying the actions of the main character. I don't sleep , and I got this wire wig coming out of my head , some tech- geek parroting on my shoulder . .. you know what ? Lt. Reese thought it was so fucking hilarious ...then..."

Mitch was grinning getting into it when Bob stooped talking and scanned an approaching car, the older girls were locked onto it too. Bob almost looked alarmed.

"Holy shit! Mother of all salvation alerts . Gotta see these overrides to believe them."

A car with a female driver screeched in, her tires scattering dust across the diner forecourt . She nearly failed to stop at the wooden fence at the end of the parking lot. - The older girls were on it straight away, Grace began walking towards her.

Bob raised his hand, palm out in front of him . "You know what ? General's orders I'm on child protection duty here . Section 8- 8.2 Duties and responsibilities of C.O's in potentially hostile conditions. That's you Lieutenant. I'm outta here."

"Hey Bob, you just hold up , this isn't a hostile."

"You didn't read the expression her face " Bob lent closer in towards him. " Don't forget the beer, Derek , I won't.

The Triple 8 strode off to stand inside the foyer taking up 'guard' position outside the disabled bathroom . It sounded to him like the humans were getting ready to exit.

Reese shook his head " That's it, the fucking Tin can's bailed-out on us."

"What got him spooked ?"

"Her." Reese nodded towards the cloud of dust setting on a battered blue Nissan.

Mitch squinted , a woman in her late thirties, black hair, bike jacket slammed the car door, and as if it were her second nature she paused , scanning over the car lot .

" Mitch that's Sarah Connor. All you need to know:

"Sarah Connor? "

"She's like a Goddamn rattlesnake and twice as pissed."


End file.
